


Steel Soldier

by avalescence_hurlocked



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, F/M, Iwaizumi Angst, M/M, Spy/Secret Agent AU, a LOT of iwa angst, characters and ships will be added as I write more chapters, im not a professional in these things so forgive me, past relationship, something along those lines
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-14 23:32:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5763187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avalescence_hurlocked/pseuds/avalescence_hurlocked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was tough and unbreakable, strong and resilient.</p><p>Take away what he cares about, and suddenly you're met with a fool.</p><p>How pitiful, the man that gives up. How pitiful, the people who believed in him.</p><p>By now he was just reaching for the stars, the stars that seemed so far away.</p><p>Hopeless.</p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi Hajime wanted nothing more than to leave behind his past, but someone decides that he's ready to get back into the field and fight once more. Unfortunately for Iwaizumi, he doesn't seem to have a choice anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steel Soldier

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CheesePie30](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheesePie30/gifts).



> ok so literally this was supposed to be a fluff-filled gift for my girlfriend for our monthsary but it evolved into something waaaaay bigger than i had ever hoped
> 
> if this gets enough good reviews maybe i might continue it bc im posting this in the middle of project [hell] week, so i dont have a lot of time
> 
> enjoy the crazy ride!
> 
> ps: forgive the names, im not japanese

Iwaizumi couldn’t believe his luck.

He was stuck at a bus stop, in the middle of a harsh downpour, and he was _freezing._ The weather report called for sunny skies and cool air, not dark clouds and strong winds. He cursed the weather reporter for false information.

He was huddled up on the bench, hugging himself tightly to keep warm. He knew no bus drivers would ever drive in this strong a rainstorm, and he didn’t have anywhere close by to take shelter in. Of all days, he just _had_ to wear a thin shirt and shorts. He blamed Makki for convincing him to “let loose and stop wearing such conservative clothes all the time”. (It wasn’t his fault he liked long sleeves.)

Iwaizumi sighed, slumping. The rain didn’t look like it was going to let up soon, and so far he’d been stranded for a total of forty-six minutes. That number seemed to only grow as the seconds ticked by, with no form of transportation headed his way and no sign of the sun peeking through the thick clouds.

Suddenly he heard the splash of footsteps against the wet pavement. He turned to see someone else unfortunately caught in the rain. They were using a jacket as some kind of umbrella, although it wasn’t holding up strong, looking as soaked as a sponge.

As the person drew nearer, Iwaizumi was able to identify them as a male, and obviously the effort of running and trying not to slip and fall flat on their backside was exhausting. He could hear soft panting from the stranger’s mouth due to the exertion.

“Mystery Guy” sat a few seats away from Iwaizumi, cursing under his breath as he wrung out his jacket, ridding it of any rainwater. Iwaizumi took a sidelong glance at his new companion.

He had bouncy, side-swept, light brown and almost chocolate-colored hair, which, miraculously, was still dry despite the heavy rain. Judging by the way he looked almost too big for the seat, Iwaizumi figured he was tall. In the dim light of the overhead lamp, he could see the stranger’s skin glow amidst the dark atmosphere, as pale and as smooth as porcelain. His cheeks were dusted with a light pink, and so were his neck and knuckles, probably because of the running. His long legs were bent inwards, his feet crossed under the seat.

The stranger finally leant back in his seat, flinging his jacket on the seat next to him tiredly. It was as if he had just noticed Iwaizumi, looking at him and shooting him a bright smile.

Iwaizumi was almost caught in between wanting to punch him and kiss him.

“Hello, stranger-chan! Weather seems awfully off today, huh?” the stranger said, letting a light laugh slip through his lips.

Iwaizumi decided that he wanted to punch him.

“It does,” he agreed, sighing again and closing his eyes, trying to block out the sound of rain and the cold prickling at his skin. “You seem cold, stranger-chan,” the stranger observed.

Iwaizumi snorted. “Oh, really? I didn’t seem to notice.”

The stranger laughed— _It wasn_ _’_ _t even a joke,_ Iwaizumi thought—before smiling at him again. “You’re so negative, stranger-chan! Be more positive!” he suggested, poking Iwaizumi’s arm.

Iwaizumi slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me.”

“A bit mindful of personal space, eh? Okay, fine, I won’t bite.” The stranger then sat back in his seat.

Iwaizumi was _thankful_ that this guy knew how to respect personal space, but as with all good things, it didn’t last.

For whatever reason, the stranger somehow fell asleep and his snores were as loud, if not louder than the rain. Iwaizumi was nearing the edge at this point, trying not to strangle him in order to stop his snoring. He had to refrain from doing so, because if he did it would turn out to be a really bad day for him. (As if what happened so far wasn’t bad enough.)

Iwaizumi thought it best to just hang in there and try to tolerate the horrible things that destiny somehow thought funny to inflict on him of all people. _There are way worse people to do this too,_ he thought miserably. _Like Mattsun._

After about twenty minutes of waiting and tolerating and trying not to scream, the rain did let up a little bit. It didn’t die down completely, but the drizzle was light enough that he could walk with worrying too much about getting soaked to the bone.

Iwaizumi didn’t want to leave the stranger to sleep here in the open where anyone could kill him (i.e. Iwaizumi did consider being one of them), his conscience winning. He gently nudged the stranger awake. “Hey, the storm’s died down. You can probably walk home, if home’s near here. Even if it’s not you could look for a taxi,” he said. The stranger blinked his eyes open, sleepily smiling at him.

Iwaizumi wanted to punch himself for feeling his skin tingle at the sight of his smile.

“Ah, thanks, stranger-chan,” he said softly, voice still a little hoarse from sleep. Iwaizumi made to stand before the stranger called out after him. “Stranger-chan! Wait!”

Iwaizumi stopped in his tracks. “What?”

“Take my jacket, it’s dry.”

“Why?”

“Well, for one thing, you’re shivering from the cold. You helped me out, so… Let me repay you.”

“I just woke you up.”

“Yeah, but I could’ve been stuck here if you didn’t!”

Iwaizumi considered denying the offer—he’d have to actually find him again to give it back—but it was better than nothing. He hated the cold more than he hated optimists, anyway.

He took the jacket hesitantly. “Thanks,” he said dryly, before wearing it. There was a fleece lining on the inside, so it served to insulate his body nicely. Iwaizumi almost wanted to cry; he missed the sensation of warmth and comfort.

Iwaizumi awkwardly met the stranger’s gaze, who was standing in front of him, as if expectant. “So, uh. When can I give this back?” he asked, and wasn’t surprised when the stranger shook his head.

“It’s fine, you can keep it. Let it serve as a reminded of our meeting,” he said with a wink.

Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes. “Are you trying to flirt with me? Because it’s not working.”

The stranger laughed—that laugh was like nails on a chalkboard and honey to Iwaizumi’s ears at the same time. “You’re hilarious, stranger-chan!” He waved at him before walking away. “I’ll see you soon!”

Iwaizumi huffed. This guy—he was weird, mysterious even. But Iwaizumi knew it was just some tactic—it’d end up like some Cinderella story. He’d get curious, try to find the guy, maybe even fall in love with him—no, the _idea_ of him—in the process, and then when he found him they’d kiss and live happily after.

But Iwaizumi’s had his share of happily ever afters, and frankly they weren’t all they were cracked up to be.

In the end, he left, taking the jacket and walking off to home. He wouldn’t give the stranger what they wanted, the satisfaction of being chased after, sought after. Iwaizumi knew the type.

He appreciated the jacket, though. It was a nice touch.

 

 

 

 

 

Oikawa arrived home, and not long after he sat down on his couch and rung up his partner—well, _ex-_ partner, in a few weeks’ time.

“T? Yeah, package has been secured. He won’t even know what’s coming. Yeah, I’m free for dinner. Tomorrow? Alright, I’ll be there. See you.”

He pressed the end call button and turned on the TV.

He was met with security footage of Iwaizumi—on the train, in the office, walking down the sidewalk, at the bar. The list was endless. It eventually ended on a shot of him in grainy black and white, his features barely visible but still distinguishable, with his name written in blocky font.

Oikawa smiled. Operation Shutdown was running full steam ahead, and it would start with one person. The one they’ve been watching for almost six months now, to the point where they probably knew more than he did about himself.

_Iwaizumi Hajime, 24, ex-Special Ops agent._

The perfect spy.

 

 

 

 

 

Iwaizumi ran a hand through his hair, breathing in the chilly post-rain air that came with downpours. It had rained again that day, and Iwaizumi came prepared. He brought his aquamarine umbrella and had a thick wool scarf wrapped around his neck. He wore his black coat and had left his new jacket at home, hoping to leave behind his memory of the stranger, as with all other thoughts that caused him discomfort.

He was on his way to dinner with Makki and Mattsun, and apparently, one of their friends. Now, Iwaizumi wasn’t keen on meeting anyone new, especially someone who knew Makki and Mattsun, but nevertheless he didn’t want to miss out on dinner with his best friends.

They told him to come to a small Italian restaurant in a somewhat secluded area, which made Iwaizumi think. Why there? There were tons of not-suspicious Italian restaurants in the center of the city, and besides, Makki wouldn’t be one to pick one some kilometers away from the highway exit out of the city, unless…

Iwaizumi dismissed the thought. Makki wasn’t like that anymore, and neither was he. Those thoughts came from years ago, and honestly, he had put it all behind him.

Or, at least, he thought he had.

He still remembered the bright yellow flames licking up the wood of the safe house, the gunshots ringing in his ears, the crackling of leaves under his feet as he ran for his life in the fields, his partner bleeding to death in his arms, helpless and looking _so hopeful that help was coming_ _—_

He snapped back to reality. _Quit it, Hajime. Takai was a casualty of a planned attack. It wasn_ _’_ _t your fault._

And yet, if he had stopped her from volunteering to be the bait, to sacrifice her life, for someone else to take her place and to spare her and the future she had, life would’ve been different. He’d be with his best friend, the person he cared about the most.

But _they_ took it away from him.

He hadn’t even realized he’d been crying.

Iwaizumi wiped the tears from his cheeks, stuck himself back into reality, and hailed a cab, asking the driver to take him to 93 Koteni Avenue. He had a dinner to attend to.

 

 

 

 

 

He arrived after a ten-minute ride, watching the city buildings turn from thirty-storey high ones to simple, three-floor apartments dotting the street where there were stores lining the narrowing road. There weren’t a lot of people out, unsurprisingly, since there wasn’t anything else to do than to sit home and watch some evening television out by the edges of the city.

One of the nice things Iwaizumi liked about the city was that they didn’t demolish the buildings at the old part of town, which was where he was at. Commonly known as Yojeko district, it was one of the first parts of the city that harbored civilization until they reclaimed land and started to modernize the center parts of it. The surrounding areas near the highways connecting them to other cities—since theirs was a bit more isolated than the others—were left untouched and simply left to the people who wanted to live there. They of course had to install new technologies and wireless connections, but other than that the buildings themselves were already at least forty years old, compared to the younger steel, glass, and concrete giants in the middle.

Yojeko was also known as the syndicate’s haven, because police were not in demand here. It was usually a safe place until the highly dangerous faction known as _Mujona Seijin_ took hold and the district went into a deep class change. It went from being a peaceful, safe place to a dangerous, crime-riddled town in just a matter of weeks.

Of course, they sorted it out and made sure that Mujosei were to be taken care of, but the faction had gotten away and they were never seen in the city again.

Iwaizumi had not seen Yojeko in a while. The last time he’d been was when he was with Takai, looking for a pet to gift to her nephew. He remembered it clearly: she would drag him around looking for a pet store and every one wouldn’t have a “cute enough” dog, as she called it, until she saw Nezo, a small three-legged thing with a single black spot on his ear. She immediately fell in love and bought him, and her nephew absolutely loved the puppy. Nezo even whimpered sadly and sat by the fresh grave when he heard of Takai’s passing.

Iwaizumi willed himself to stop thinking about Takai and focus on his dinner with Makki and Mattsun because that’s what he came here for.

He paid the driver and exited the car, noticing that the restaurant, though small, had a few customers inside eating. He spotted Makki sitting in a booth seat near the end of the room.

He entered and walked over, shooting Makki a small smile. “Mattsun’s not here yet,” the pink-haired man said, returning Iwaizumi’s smile.

“Nice to see you’re taking a break from managing the bookstore,” Iwaizumi noticed before sitting down across from him.

Makki shrugged. “It was stressful, and besides, I wanted to introduce you to a friend of mine.”

As if on cue the door’s chimes tinkled as the door opened, revealing Mattsun laughing at something. Makki waved at him and the person behind him, probably Makki’s friend.

Iwaizumi blinked. _No, it couldn’t be._

Mattsun and their mystery friend walked up to them, Mattsun with a bright grin on his face. “Long time no see, Iwaizumi!” he greeted. “Up for an arm wrestling contest?” he added, joking. Iwaizumi couldn’t say anything; he was still shocked by who Makki’s friend was.

Makki snickered. “Looks like Iwaizumi here was too star-struck by your beauty,” he told the mystery guy teasingly, who only smiled knowingly in return.

“It seems so,” the stranger—or not-so-stranger—replied.

He stuck a hand out for Iwaizumi to take. “Hi, I believe I haven’t properly introduced myself,” he said formally. “Oikawa Tooru, nice to meet you.”

Mattsun slapped a hand on Iwaizumi’s back, snapping him back to reality. “He looks familiar, doesn’t he?” he asked. Iwaizumi nodded slowly. _Yes, I just saw him yesterday._

“He’s Mina-san’s cousin,” Makki quipped. “Wasn’t able to attend the wake or the funeral due to, ah, _work._ ” He shot a wink at Iwaizumi, who threw him a disgusted look. “Quite the catch, isn’t he? Lots of girls fawn over him. You should see the number of likes he gets on Facebook every time he posts a picture,” he added.

Iwaizumi was still at a loss for words.

How could he, Oikawa Tooru, possibly be Takai’s cousin?

They were nothing alike.

Whereas he was lilting and light, Takai was more dark and deep. Where he was tall and playful, Takai was short and brooding. Where he was handsome and charming, Takai was the kind of girl to kick any guy who whistled at her.

And yet—looking at him now, the slight curve of his mouth, the long lashes, the same pink lips and slender neck, the sharp jawline and the full eyebrows—he could be Takai’s _brother,_ for all he cared.

His heart ached at the comparisons between the two relatives.

The one difference that pained him the most was that one was alive and well, and the other was buried six feet under.

Oikawa sat beside Makki while Mattsun sat beside him. The waiter handed them some menus and the four sat silently, perusing their choices before ordering what they wanted and cutting to conversation.

“So, Iwa-chan—”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Iwa-chan, Makki tells me you were in spec ops with my cousin, Mina-chan.” Oikawa smirked. “But he also told me that after she died you both quit—you, especially, with the strong determination to have no affiliation with Seijoh. Am I correct?”

Iwaizumi wanted to strangle him. “Since when did this turn into a game of twenty questions?”

“Am I correct?” Oikawa asked again, this time Iwaizumi could see a fire in his eyes.

Iwaizumi felt a shiver run down his spine. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want to bear anyone else dying.” Iwaizumi took a sip of water. “Suppose you were in my shoes. Wouldn’t you do the same?”

“I wouldn’t run away, Iwa-chan. Not like you,” he said coolly, voice full of snark. “I’m not a _coward._ And here I thought Mina-chan was talking about a hero, not a fool who walks away from his problems—”

Iwaizumi’s hand shot out to grab Oikawa’s collar. “Don’t you dare call me that,” he hissed. Oikawa scrabbled to push him off but Iwaizumi held firm. “You don’t know half of what I’ve been through, half of what I’ve seen,” he continued, the venom in his voice spilling over. “So don’t you fucking say that I ran away because I was a coward. So what if I was scared? I ran away because I didn’t want to feel any more pain. I ran away because I was tired of attending funerals. I ran away because I can’t have another Takai die.”

He didn’t even notice he was out of breath until he was done talking.

Oikawa still looked as smug as ever. Iwaizumi let go, sitting back down, cheeks flushed. Makki and Mattsun were looking at each other. “I’m sorry,” he said reluctantly, smoothing down his shirt. “That was… uncalled for.”

Oikawa laughed flatly. “Definitely,” he agreed. Iwaizumi felt embarrassed. He’d never had that happen before, and now that it has, he felt like he should’ve held it in.

After an awkward silence, Makki and Mattsun were now talking again, chatting up Oikawa about different things that Iwaizumi had never heard of before and didn’t have enough cares in the world to bother asking. He stared down at his plate, wanting to disappear. Mattsun had nudged him once or twice, asking if he was okay, and both times he brushed him away. “I’m fine,” he said dismissively, trying to make himself look as small as possible.

Eventually the night had ended with the other three in high spirits and Iwaizumi at a low. Makki and Mattsun left together, leaving him and Oikawa waiting for a cab.

He felt smoldering hatred grow for the tall brown-haired demon, but he didn’t want to do anything he knew he’d regret. He just waited patiently, Oikawa waiting a few meters away.

 _It was just like the bus stop,_ he thought. _The same exact scenario, without the downpour._

Oikawa cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for that,” he said seriously. “I didn’t realize how much you cared for her.”

Iwaizumi chuckled darkly. “I was planning on proposing, did you know that?” he said, as loud as a whisper. “I had the ring in my pocket, but then she volunteered to save the secretary’s daughter.” He closed his eyes, trying to will back tears. “It was too late for her. It was too late for me.”

Oikawa’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, not knowing what to say. “I… I didn’t know.”

“No one does.”

Iwaizumi let out a deep breath, his hot exhale misting in the cool evening air. “That’s all in the past now, not that I’ve forgotten.” He fingered his sleeves. “I don’t know why I can’t forget. Maybe because she’s left so much of an impact on me that it’s just hard to let go and forget who she was to me, what she did to me. How she helped me.”

He laughed softly. “She was my best friend before anything else.”

Oikawa blinked before reaching out to pat his shoulder. “I’m sorry for your loss.” “And I’m sorry for yours.”

A moment passed before a cab came and picked up Iwaizumi and he headed back into the city.

 

 

 

Iwaizumi was so tired, so drained. He just wanted a good night’s sleep.

He took out the keys to his apartment from his pocket but found that he wouldn’t need them.

His door was kicked open.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://www.oiizumi.tumblr.com/)  
>  leave a kudos and a review of it please!


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